


Dirtyhands and the Too-Clever Fox

by December Dragon (StarlightOnInk)



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Action, Adventure, F/M, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21993826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightOnInk/pseuds/December%20Dragon
Summary: The heist had been pulled off and Van Eck’s kingdom toppled, but the work was not yet done and the Dregs were not destined to stay separated for long. Inej Ghafa had seen the worst of humanity and was determined to take down any slave traders she encountered. She already has accomplished much, but now it is her turn to recruit the old team for some new shots at bringing down tyrants. Saints willing, those she calls upon can survive one another and keep the conflict directed at the real enemies. Like calls to like, however, so perhaps a troublemaking sharpshooter, a runaway demolitions expert, a vengeful soldier, a criminal mastermind, and a renowned privateer can find some compromise.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa, Matthias Helvar/Nina Zenik
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40
Collections: Grishaverse Big Bang 2019





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My submission for the on @grishaversebigbang Tumblr! When I heard this would be happening and that this is the first one this amazing series is getting, I just had to get involved. Below are links to the works created by my amazing group members. Please show them all the love and support they deserve!  
> Corporalki: @evansiess  
> Materialki: @nai-nty-8 , @raynecreates , @lilabard

“Not so far, Zara,” her brother called to her. She ignored him.

“Zara!”

Again, the only response she gave was a string of giggles mingling with the pitter-patter of her feet through the grass.

Misha gave a short huff, which induced more giggles from Zara; her brother’s impatience was easy to track.

“Zara, if you get lost, I’m not going to wait and search for you,” he vowed solemnly. “The witch of Duva will find you first, and you’ll become part of her scrumptious house of candy.”

Zara paused, turning around in time to see Misha with his arms folded over his broad chest. “Mama and Papa would be mad at you,” she began.

“Are you willing to bet on that?” he challenged.

“Yes.” Without another word, she scampered off once more.

She couldn’t hear Misha’s next huff of annoyance but knew it must have sounded. Instead, she heard breaking twigs and shifting leaves as he tramped on after her.

“We’re not that deep in the woods anyway,” she chirped, marching on. “I can see the coast through some of the branches. This isn’t exactly a dark, evil place, Misha.”

“That doesn’t mean big animals don’t live here,” he reminded her tiredly. His heavy footfalls sounded even from so far up ahead. “Big animals that love to gobble up little sisters who don’t listen.”

“I’ll throw mushrooms at them.” Zara shrugged, shifting the basket looped over her arm. They would have plenty for at least the next week after all the collecting she and Misha had done.

Misha rolled his eyes in a gesture so potent Zara didn’t need to see it to positively feel it. She snickered again, too thoroughly enjoying their antics. Deep down, she knew Misha enjoyed it too; she had caught sight of his fond grin out of the corner of her eye more than once.

They fell into a comfortable silence as Zara slowed her pace, listening contentedly to the wind dancing between leaves and the merry sound of deer leaping, unseen, through the bramble. Zara didn’t bother turning, knowing she’d see some sooner or later, with how loud and bold they’d grown. She didn’t want to startle any with any sudden, different movements.

After all the tales of Sankta Alina, garbed in a  _ kefta _ of sunlight, golden visage framed by radiant stag antlers, wrist glittering with a sea dragon’s scales, Zara wanted to see creatures that even only somewhat resembled what the Sun Queen used to vanquish the shadows.

Zara’s own eyes grew starry as the Sun Queen’s benevolent smile must have looked as she thought about it, daydreamed about being the one enduring candle flame in an otherwise endless night. One flick of her finger and all the world was aglow…

Zara waved her arms, whistling sounds escaping from between her lips, imagining rays of sunlight piercing tree trunks and causing grass to smoke from the heat. Maybe sunspots would dance before the eyes of all her adoring worshippers, so no one could even fully comprehend her ethereal grace.

How Zara wished she could be like that, like a real hero. Armies of monsters would fall with just a single flourish. People would look up to her and count on her. And oh, her parents would boast of their sweet, powerful little Grisha out in the world slaying volcra.

With a last “ _ ha! _ ” Zara punched at the air to unleash a wave of sunlight at her target. Only silence answered her.

She lowered her arms, immediately deflating back into her small, insignificant self. Yet she felt stronger just then, as if some of Sankta Alina’s light had stayed with her. She turned around to show some of this renewed confidence to Misha.

The path behind her was clear.

“Misha!” she called in her high, musical voice. Her eyes darted from left to right. “Misha, come back over here!” Zara padded over to where she’d last seen her brother, once more looking both ways.

Nothing.

Even the stomping and rustling from earlier had left the area.

Zara ignored her heart’s wish to start hammering, but still discomfort blossomed in her chest. “Misha, this isn’t funny.” Almost more than anything, she feared the attack he was bound to launch when he grew tired of his prank. Misha was a tall, wide figure, all quick bursts of strength from helping around the barn. She’d seen firsthand he wasn’t much good in a fight, primarily from lack of discipline. But he still knew how to leave an impact.

Zara tensed, ready for him to tackle her. The blow never came.

The forest sounded too quiet, the kind of subdued hush that falls over pray when a predator is in their midst. Zara became acutely aware of feeling eyes burning into the back of her neck.

She wheeled round with a squeak. There was nothing. But no sooner had she turned than she felt that same fearful trepidation again. Round and round she turned, feet sending her backpedaling, stumbling over twigs, pebbles, bumps, and holes. At last, Zara’s back hit against a tree and she yelped once more until her scrambling hands felt the bark.

Her sense of safety lasted maybe a moment until she was left once again as a lost little girl in the woods. Would the witch of Duva kill her before eating her? Or would she enchant her so Zara stayed alive and aware as she became part of her candied house?

Molten heat burned at her eyes before trickling down her cheeks. The forest swam before her from behind her tears. Both too fearful to move and too anxious to get the worst over with, Zara began to sob.

Unbidden a traitorous shred of hope welled in a deep recess of her heart, a faint chink of light too small to spread any change but so different from the black fear around her that it couldn’t help but stand out.

_ Misha will hear _ , she thought desperately.  _ Misha will hear and know the prank is over and he has to come out now. Please, Misha, I promise I won’t tell Mama or Papa. I swear it on Sankta Alina’s scales and antlers - I swear on the very sun, please, Misha, the prank is over, you went too far but I won’t be mad if you come out now _ -

Zara’s broken sobs mingled with the still branches and growing shadows. Hands trembling, Zara wrenched them from her soaked face to perform some imitation of the prayers Mama would do each winter when snow threatened their livelihood. What Papa would act out before a cow gave birth. Hers was a sloppy rendition, interrupted by her fearful tremors and choked cries.

_ Sankta Alina will hear them anyway _ , she dared to think. Sankta Alina had heard Ravka’s cries as the Unsea ripped the land in two.

Zara’s wailing subsided, though tears still fell freely from her eyes. Sankta Alina had still been young when she walked right into the unnatural darkness and killed the monster behind it all. She had been brave even when she was all alone.

_ I want to be like her, I have to be brave too _ , Zara reminded herself.

It took several more moments in a silence broken by her own rattling breath, for Zara to will herself to her feet. Inch by inch, she found herself standing once more. Face streaked with tears and snot, Zara looked around, pretending - as she so loved to do for fun - that she was not Zara Luzhina, but Alina Starkov, off to go save the day.

With markedly less grace than the former living saint, Zara sniffled wetly as she began her walk through the woods.

Each step brought her closer to Misha, she was sure of it. Just retrace the path. Then she could go home and see Misha’s stupid grinning face peering at her at the kitchen table, after he snuck all the way back home without her.

Her ears rang with a barely-subdued fear she kept at bay with the weapon known as denial. That denial screamed in her head louder than the beast of doubt and fright that wanted to consume her; she had to keep it that way, or else she’d never be able to walk so suredly like this.

_ Just like Alina. Just like Sankta Alina. I’m finally just like her now _ .

A bird flew from its branch up above and Zara launched into a sprint.

0o0o0

She did not stop until she reached home, spotting as she ran her mother shooing some chickens. Her small, thundering feet barely slowed as she threw herself into the woman’s arms and wailed.

Luda, seeing only her daughter’s tears, tore herself from her work and brought the child inside for a soothing cup of honeyed tea. Zara stuck to her as a soaked leaf sticks to a branch. Slowly, pure relief replaced Zara’s unparalleled fear.

At last, the question came.

“Where’s Misha?”

0o0o0

On the first day they searched all night. On the second day they went into town to ask around. On the third day, help joined them in calling Misha’s name. On the fourth day, their search team expanded - because some original members also went missing. On the fifth, more search party members joined Misha and the would-be rescuers. On the sixth day, their focus shifted to the broader area.

On the seventh day, several villagers unrelated to the initial incident disappeared as well. A week after that, those who remained formed a town watch. Soon, the whole village became part of it when, at last, one set of keen eyes spotted sails on the distant horizon and realized just what they were contending with.

Slavers.


	2. Chapter 2

Not for the first time, Inej was left to wonder when joy could be embraced without being tainted. Even as she thought this, a small but potent part of her felt it was simply what she deserved. After all she had done, what happiness did she deserve?

Accepting the goodness presented to her, acting on her aching desire to embrace her parents with abandon, had taken time and effort. But in that moment, everything felt more  _ right _ than it had in ages. She liked to think even Kaz had been affected by her joy that day, though the extent to which he would admit it would, of course, be minimal.

Even through this tempest of emotions, Inej knew always that the heart was an arrow whose aim must be true. And she would let this guide her towards a purposeful life spent ensuring what happened to her would not befall others.

The company she kept was not the most honorable. But sometimes it took monsters to beat other monsters; and there certainly were worse people to be associated with.

That was what she - sometimes, occasionally - reminded herself when she also recalled the unsavory actions some people (Kaz Brekker) had taken in their lives.

Whatever the emotional acrobatics her conscience needed to perform, Inej knew in her heart she needed to pursue her mission using what she knew were the best means. Once again, they would need to put together a crew.

0o0o0

Kaz stretched his leg out under the table, considering the Wraith in front of him. He grunted quietly as he was finally able to work out a cramping in the injured limb. Kaz knew the importance of constantly planning and thinking and being aware, but even he had to admit it was more pleasant to think without a dull ache in his leg  _ constantly _ .

When needed, though, he let that pain serve to clear his mind to arbitrary details around him, and focus on his goal or mark.

At the moment, however, he found he simply wanted to pay attention to Inej.

Kaz was not sure if he was surprised - and at what in particular about Inej he was surprised. She seemed at once totally herself, and reborn anew.

0o0o0

Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, Bastard of the Barrel, the monster whose name often inspired enough fear to keep him from needing to lift a gloved finger, had dealt with his fair share of conflict. He had faced down rival gangs, traitorous colleagues, genocidal governments, self-destructive allies, and his own personal fears. Lessons had, quite literally, been beaten into him all his life until he was the one able to instill them in others.

Confronting insolence was usually a simple task, the approach catered to the individual in question. Sometimes a brawl shut up an unruly thug, other times an insidious threat put an upstart in his place. There was only so much room at the top, after all, and while Kaz had learned his lessons, others had not. He would not have others smashing the foundations of the kingdom he had successfully built up.

  
That was not to say he did not see the value in cooperation. Far from it. Kaz Brekker knew only too well the importance of strength in numbers; while a well-placed hit to a weak point could send walls crumbling in on themselves, having the right comrades could make or break an entire operation. That was partly why his heist against the Ice Court had succeeded. He alone could not have accomplished that.

For this reason, he understood Inej’s reasoning behind recruiting such a medley team. In fact, he was impressed by her resourcefulness and determination to see the job done.

This positive view did not extend to everyone part of their company. Particularly the insolence and ego their privateer tried to pass off as charm. He even  _ looked _ like he was glowing, a walking flame fueled by his own kindling, especially when he grinned that cocky grin. For all her contemplative sternness, Inej had even welcomed Sturmhond into their midst as if he really were one of their own. In terms of teamwork and coordination, that should have made things better. Often, however, Kaz felt he might have preferred his team being dysfunctional like they were after the Hellgate breakout and before the Ice Court break-in.

Adding to this was the level of authority Sturmhond wanted to carry around with him. There was a difference between consulting informed colleagues and bending to the will of a proud captain who seemed to think the world was his ship. Kaz was determined to impress that distinction upon Sturmhond over the course of their mission together.

0o0o0

“Perhaps breaking the ice is in order,” Sturmhond proposed, his polite tone somewhat at odds with the presence he seemed to naturally command.

“That’s a good idea,” Jesper said with a grin.

Inej nodded. “That would be best.”

“Of course,” Nina stated enthusiastically.

Wylan offered a smile. “Alright, yeah.”

“Mmm. Being aware of each other’s strengths and weaknesses provides a major strategic advantage.”

Half a dozen heads swiveled to face Kaz, twenty-four eyes of every color blinking expectantly at him.

Kaz stared back, unfazed. “We have two soldiers - one disgraced, the other his downfall - a gambler who happens to have remarkable aim, that same gambler’s musical merchling muse with a pension for explosives, a procurer of secrets and expert with knives, a sailor, and the one who needs to keep all of you in line somehow.”

He had barely finished his first point when Matthias balked. Nina at first looked torn before flashing a grin. She leaned closer to Matthias, batting her eyelashes and already looking mischievous. For his part, Matthias seemed to have expected this, but that made it no less of a shock when Nina whispered her scandalous words of affirmation into his ear. Even now the nerve of this Ravkan woman threw him.

Wylan was imitating the same deep red color that had adorned Nina’s old Ketterdam  _ kefta _ , a fact that was only exacerbated when Jesper added, “My muse will confirm: my aim is top notch.” In the past, Nina might have joked about being able to sense his embarrassment from far away; Kaz noted her silence now, in the absence of her powers as she’d known them.

Inej did not bother fighting down a smile, and though she tempered her expression when she turned to Kaz, he still caught sight of that same breathtaking look he had attained rare, wonderful glimpses of before.

Sturmhond observed with a grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, this shall be  _ very _ fun,” he said bracingly.

Inej pursed her lips. “Amusement from all of them aside, there is even more enjoyment from confronting slavers and showing them firsthand what cowards they are.”

“It’s good business,” Kaz mused, idly inspecting the top of his cane.

“He has a point,” Sturmhond agreed, still smiling that frustratingly sunny and easy smile. Kaz scowled. “Slavers drive away clients, and putting away felons does a wonder for the conscience. Fully restful nights mean more productive days. It’s an endless cycle.”

“We’ll do whatever you need,” Kaz cut in suddenly, turning fully to Inej. His comrades peered at him curiously. He pressed on, ignoring their probing gazes. “Just about anything is feasible, we should know this well with this group. Dysfunctional and susceptible though you all are, we proved there is no barrier that can keep us from penetrating it."

Jesper murmured in Wylan’s ear. His blush seemed to increase the temperature in the room. Sturmhond appeared pleased.

Inej appeared to notice none of this, having eyes only for Kaz sharing his earnest vow. Because that is what it was, Kaz was sure Inej understood. Very few had spent as much time with him, had taken care to see much of what he really meant. It was not a perfect artform; Kaz himself had taken great pains to ensure that. The less people knew of a secret, the easier it was to keep. The element of surprise had saved him and the others more than once. But if anyone could come close to reading and deciphering him, Kaz knew that person was Inej.

This knowledge brought a strange sense of… something… to him. None of it was something he was able or even ready to place. Just trying to think about it caused him to recoil, to retreat back into his gloves and prim suit and misleading yet reliable cane.

No. That would have to be addressed another time. If ever. For the moment, however, there was some positive force acting on him to know Inej likely understood how seriously he planned to take this. For her.

Now he needed to ensure Sturmhond kept that authoritative defiance in check and remember the hierarchy of things here.

The privateer almost seemed to sense this internal threat - promise - and arched an eyebrow that, like the rest of him, seemed just a bit off. They had all noticed it, and Kaz had seen enough Grisha handiwork to have an idea of the cause.

At least he seemed pragmatic, Kaz conceded, sizing Sturmhond up from out of the corner of his eye. Pragmatism he could encourage in a person. It was one of the few things not beaten out of him, but rather, reinforced during his ordeal with Pekka Rollins. Whether Sturmhond’s was as hard-earned remained to be seen.

“Right,” he began again, eyes sweeping across his team once more. “We need to start planning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The board is set, the pieces are...dysfunctional.

**Author's Note:**

> And so our journey begins. Like Leigh, I tried my hand at prologues, with her as an inspiration. Next chapter is coming up fast to keep things rolling. Thank you for reading!


End file.
